Denial
by Bura-sama
Summary: Never wrote one of these before. It's just a short little fic about Presley's mom... sorta. If the thoughts of the word 'coroner' bother you, don't read.


735  
BS  
thurs.8.15.02  
thurs.8.15.02

disclaimer: not mine. not sure who it belongs to.

warnings: death.

notes: dear 'god.' i actually wrote a 'mummies alive!' fanfic. the world has truly come to an end.  
this is for my sister. i'm honestly not even sure of all of their names, but she's a big ma fan.  
this was based off a little skit i did. then i started thinking that it would be a good little dead presley fic.  
i had lots of fun writing it. i hope you have lots of fun reading it.

Denial

The coroner looked up from his written report as the door to his office was pushed open and a young policewoman stepped into the room. She had _that_ look in her eye. It wasn't going to be pretty.

"Doctor, we've got the mother out here. She's come to identify the boy."

The coroner sighed deeply, and pushed himself away from the desk. He closed the door behind him and followed the officer down the hall. He saw her almost immediately. She had a name tag on her shirt that proclaimed her 'Museum Employee Amanda.' She had a sort of blank look on her face.

"Miss," The coroner began. "It's pretty gruesome. Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

She nodded slightly, and the coroner pulled the sheet away from the body.

It was a small corpse -- a child's corpse. The body had been badly burned. The skin had been melted, the feet a total mess. The coroner had been doing the job for almost sixty years, and this was the worst burn case yet. An eye witness had said that the lightning bolt had come from nowhere, struck the boy, and the fire didn't stop until there was so very little left.

The mother was looking down at the corpse, her face giving away no expression. She just looked down to the body and then up to the coroner. "This isn't my son."

The police officer in the back of the room looked sad. The coroner had heard it all before. He didn't want to bring up the fact that the boy's friend had seen it happen. Instead, he just looked at the lady in denial. "Ma'am, we pulled dental records for him. They match with your son."

She just shook her head and pointed down to the partially remaining skull. "You see, that can't be my son." Her fingers hovered a few inches away from the remains, unable to touch it. "My son has eyes." The empty sockets stared up at both of them. "My son has a nose, and that sweet smile he gives me." She pointed to the area where the mouth should have been. The jaw and the bottom row of teeth were long since gone.

The coroner blinked and just shook his head sadly. _Maybe I haven't heard it all before._

"Ma'am--" The police officer long since forgotten in the back of the room started to escort the woman away, but was interrupted.

"That is NOT my son!!" Ever syllable was punctuated with a shake of her hand. "My son is at the mall with his friends. He's going to come home, and he's going to laugh and tell a new joke that he heard. He's going to eat his supper and he's going to hug me good night." She was shaking. The coroner noticed that her eyes held a blank, glossy look.

The police officer gently took her arm and started to walk the woman away from the dead body. The coroner called out to her, "Ma'am!"

She turned, "Yes?"

The coroner held out a plastic bag with an amulet inside. "This was found near the scene. If you want it..."

The mother took the bag and slipped it into her coat pocket. "I'll hold onto it, until the child's mother identifies the body. Then you can call me and she can get it."

The coroner pulled the sheet over the corpse, pushed the body back in storage, and turned off the lights as he left the room. It was so damn sad.

---

Mrs. Carnovan locked the door behind her as she stepped into her bedroom. The police had called during her lunch break, and there was still so much work she needed to do...

She hung her coat on the back of the chair, and shook her head as she tried to ignore the days events. Imagine... the police thinking that it was her little Presley that had been killed. Ludicrous...

Almost by its own will, the bag holding the amulet fell from her coat pocket, and Amanda reached to pick it up. Yes... it was true that she'd seen her son wearing it.

She unzipped the bag and the cool metal fell against her hand. It felt so empty... so _dead_.

And deep inside her heart, where no one else could see, she cried for her son that would never come home.

-----------------

I didn't write it! I didn't write it! I... wrote it.

Too short for my liking, though.

i might write another chapter focusing on the guilt-ridden mummy amigos and such. don't know.


End file.
